Another Chance for the Phantom
by rocker-chic-101
Summary: Have you ever wondered what happened to the Phantom after Christine ditched him for Raoul? Well, this story tells all, and from his point of view. Based after the 2004 movie version of Phantom.
1. Chapter 1

Another Chance for the Phantom

By: Rocker-Chic-101

_Okay, so this is a story about what happened to Erik after the 2004 version of Phantom. I do not own any of the characters from the movie. I only own the ones that I created. Please read and review! _

Have you ever wondered what happened to the Phantom after Christine Daae left him for Raoul de Chagny? Well, this story, told from his point of view, describes everything that happened afterwards.

**Prologue**

I broke away the last of the remaining mirror, breaking from my prison-like home, and walked through the residual frame. The dank, damp corridor seemed endless as I made my way outside of the burning Opera Populaire.

_Where do I go? _

The question lingered in my mind while I wandered aimlessly behind the ruined opera house. The police were already searching for me, I knew. I would have to go to a completely different country, start a new life totally.

_Oh, Christine. _

I shook her from my mind. I had to forget her. She was gone, probably marrying that naïve boy at this very moment. I blamed myself for losing her; it was my fault. If only I'd been more gentle, not so forceful. But the past can't be changed.

_I __will__ forget her. I __will__ start a new life, a better life._

Oh, who was I kidding? Christine Daae was my life; the only reason I went on living. I sank onto the cold, hard ground, my tears returning. How could I live without her? What was my purpose, if I even had one? To scare off everyone with my repulsive face?

I stood once more and continued walking towards the train station, where I climbed into one of the last cars. I'd made up my mind; I would hitchhike to London, England. Surely no one knew of me? If all went according to plan, I would spend the rest of my life in hiding, only going out when needed to purchase necessities.

So, after days of traveling throughout all of Europe, the train finally stopped in London, England. It was night, thankfully, so I made my way through the alleys of the city unnoticed. I found an unoccupied tunnel under a great mansion that lead to an open cavern somewhat smaller than the one I was used to under the Opera Populaire, but, it would have to be enough.

**One Year Later**

It had been a full year since Christine left with Raoul, and I'd been doing well, if I said so myself. I'd made a nice home underneath the Crenshaw mansion, surrounding myself with candles and making a nice bedding area in the corner. There was nothing musical at all down in this darkness, but what did I need music for? Christine was the sole purpose that I even sang.

But, one day, I found myself longing to compose, to sing. So, one stormy night, I snuck into the local chapel. I played the organ loudly, the booming thunder covering my voice and the accompaniment.

Every stormy night, I practiced that routine, singing songs that were once a duet between Christine and I. That was the only way I kept myself from going insane, if I wasn't there already.

As I was preparing to make a trip to the local market, I heard something.

"Hello? Is anyone down here?" A female voice called down the normally empty staircase. I heard footsteps descending the stairs.

_What do I do? Let her find me?_

Before I could decide what to do, I heard a _Thump! _and suddenly, a _Crash!. _It sounded like someone fell down the steps.

Cautiously, I walked up the steps, a candle lighting my way. A few steps up, I saw the body of a beautiful girl, woman actually. She looked about twenty to twenty-one with long, wavy, auburn-colored hair and pale skin. Her eyes were closed and her delicate forehead was bleeding profusely through an open cut.

_What should I do?_

It was imperative that I make a decision now, because she was losing lots of blood, too much. I knew she needed medical attention, and fast.

I set my jaw and lifted her from the stairs easily, then carried her to my makeshift bed. Laying her head on the soft feather pillow, I took a washcloth and soaked it in warm water. I wiped the blood from her forehead and remarkably, the bleeding stopped not long after. Seeing that she was not going to wake up anytime soon, I place another wet cloth over her head and sat down at the desk I'd found earlier.

_What will she do when she wakes up and sees me?_

I couldn't be exactly sure what would happen, but I was somehow sure that I was doing the right thing; for once in my life I was saving a life instead of taking one.

Maybe I would be repaid for my good deed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Do not own Erik, Christine, or any other characters from the book or movie. All of that is credited to Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber!

* * *

Chapter Two

"Excuse me?" a sweet, alluring, female voice prodded.

I awoke with a start, scattering papers and manuscripts across my desk, only to look up into the frightened eyes of the red-headed young woman.

_Oh, that's perfect, I bet I don't have my mask on._

Without saying anything, I brought my hand to my scarred face, but I felt my mask in its place. So she wasn't frightened by my face.

"What happened? Who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?" Her inquiries came out fast, her British accent thick.

"Miss, if you will please sit down, I will answer all of your questions," I replied, noticing for the first time her deep, emerald eyes.

She cautiously sat in the chair across from mine, her eyes never leaving me. She smoothed out her pale yellow gown and looked attentively to me. "Proceed."

"You mis-stepped coming down the staircase and when I found you, you were knocked unconscious and an open wound on your forehead was bleeding without end. I am the one who nursed your injury. We are now below Crenshaw Mansion, your home, I suppose."

The beautiful young woman stood, surprised. "So I was away for an entire night?"

I nodded, not knowing what else to say.

She ran a hand through her fiery hair worriedly. "I have to return. Aubry will be worried sick." She turned to leave, but I, in all my stupidity, caught her shoulder.

"Wait!"

Surprisingly, she didn't shake my un-gloved hand away, only turned to look at me, her deep green eyes enchanting me again.

"I must know your name." I realized how stupid this request was about a second after I made it. But, apparently, she didn't think so.

"Abigail Crenshaw." She smiled, offering her perfect, tiny hand.

I hesitantly took it in my own, then kissed it gently. "Enchanted, ma'am." Why was I acting like this? Perhaps it was her eyes, her unmatchable smile, or her incredible, flawless face, I don't know.

Abigail's piercing eyes sparkled as she blushed. "And shall I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

_Should I tell her my real name, the name that hasn't been uttered in a lifetime? _I debated inwardly for a single second.

"Erik. Just Erik."

"Thank you, Erik, for saving my life." Abigail turned and walked up a few steps, but stopped and spoke. "And don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you are down here."

And with that, the charming Abigail Crenshaw exited, and it already seemed darker somehow.

* * *

It stormed that night, to my delight. I longed to compose once more. Did it have anything to do with Miss Crenshaw?

I remembered what happened the last time I fell in love: heartbreak, disappointment, rejection.

How could I put myself through that again?

I couldn't; I wouldn't. I would push this-this enchantress from my mind the same way I pushed Christine Daae away.

* * *

That same night, before I laid down to sleep, her voice carried down the stairs.

"Erik?"

My heart actually started to pound excitedly, but I willed it to stop by thinking of last time. The last time I got carried away with my feelings.

"Erik? Are you down there?" Her angelic voice made me weak at the knees.

_I can't just ignore her._

So, I put on my dark wig and white mask hurriedly, wanting to look presentable. "Yes, Miss Crenshaw. I'm here," I called out, mostly in defeat.

Then, she made it to the bottom of the stairs. Her hair was put into an intricate updo, one red curl hanging loose. Her dress was a burgundy color, and it hugged her lean figure snugly; She was absolutely stunning.

"Hello." Abigail smiled.

I masked my delight at her being there. "Good evening, Miss Crenshaw." I motioned to one of the two chairs. "Would you like to sit down?"

Abigail nodded and took a seat, smoothing out her dress instinctively. A silence filled the air, and I took that opportunity to scrutinize her.

Her skin was a perfect, pale shade; all of her facial features were perfect. How can anyone be so flawless? And how can someone like her want to talk to me, a monster?

I spoke, breaking the silence, "May I ask why you are here, Miss Crenshaw?"

Abigail looked up at me, and smiled. "Please, call me Abigail." She paused. "The reason why I am here is…is to ask you a question."

_She is going to ask me why I wear a mask._

I prepared myself for her inquiry.

"Were you singing and playing the organ in the Catholic chapel last night?"

Her question caught me off guard. How could she know that? There was no one inside the church when I went to compose last night; I made sure of that.

"How do you know that?"

Abigail sighed. "I was out buying some things for my elder brother and, on my walk home, I passed by the church. I heard wonderful, passionate music coming from the inside, so I sat under the cover of a nearby marketplace and listened until the playing stopped. I took the liberty of looking in the chapel's window and saw you ending the song beautifully."

I just sat there, dumbstruck. She thought my music was beautiful? I hadn't heard that in a long time. "Yes, that was me. Every stormy night I go to the chapel to play the organ and sing. Music is my life, and I could never ignore that."

Abigail smiled again. "I have always been told that my voice is amazing, but I've never thought it was. I need a teacher, so that my voice will live up to everyone's expectations."

She was asking me to be her tutor. Could I do it? Maybe this was the door that would lead to my forgetting about all of my past transgressions, sins, the start of a new life.

"You're asking me to be your tutor?" I questioned, looking into her face for a sign of deceit.

"I am." Her face was honest.

I stood and paced the room, not knowing how to reply. Did she really trust me that much? "And this will all be secret?"

Abigail nodded solemnly. "As long as you wish it to be."

I turned to her and smiled for the first time since Christine. "I will do it."

Abigail's smile nearly knocked me off of my feet. "Thank you, Erik. You've no idea how much this means to me." She stood and took my hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. "Tomorrow, then?"

I brought her hand to my lips, then released it. "Tomorrow."

Please review! I will post the next chapter when I get at least five reviews! Thanks guys!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Do not own Erik, Christine, etc. from the book or movie; all credit goes to original authors and composers.

* * *

Chapter 3

I watched her leave, not believing what had just taken place. How could I teach her if I didn't have an instrument? I sat down and thought; finally, an idea popped into my mind. I would buy one! (I forgot to mention that I brought all of my savings with me and converted it to English currency) I put on my mask and cloak and made my way to the still bustling streets of London.

It was nearing ten, so I hurried to the nearest piano shop, called "Black Keys". After begging the salesman to allow me in, we argued over the price of a Broadwood Grand piano. At long last, we settled on the price and he agreed to help me move it into my home.

"Living under the Crenshaw Mansion, eh?" The salesman asked as we wheeled the piano near the basement. Blast! I forgot about him seeing where I lived in all my excitement. What should I tell him?

"It is no longer a part of the mansion. I am renting it out from a local." The lie came easily to my lips, although I did feel a pang of regret about doing it.

He looked up at me. "Really? What's 'is name?"

I laughed, trying to sound natural. "What does it matter?" I looked in front of us. "Okay, I'll get the front if you take care of the back."

Mr. Salesman nodded and we moved the piano in with delicate care, and in the end, all was successful.

"Thank you, sir. Have a good night." I closed the door before he could ask anything else. That was a close one. I took my cloak off and sat down at my desk.

_How to begin a lesson?_ I drifted back to Christine's first years of lessons. I had no choice but to start off like that. I wrote down all of the lyrics of the songs I knew, including ones like "Think of Me" from Chalumeau's _Hannibal_, "Point of No Return" from my very own _Don Juan Triumphant_, and some things that Christine and I sang together in the past. All was ready for tomorrow. Now, I just needed rest. I took off my mask, then laid down on my bed and fell asleep instantly, dreaming sweet dreams of Abigail Crenshaw.

* * *

I was up early the next morning, playing the piano softly. The melody of "Music of the Night" came back to me, the notes flowing through my fingers and into the ivory keys. The words poured out of my soul as I sang:

_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation_

_Darkness stirs and wakes imagination_

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses_

_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor_

_Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender_

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light_

_And listen to the music of the night_

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams_

_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before_

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar_

_And you'll live as you've never lived before_

_Softly, deftly music shall caress you_

_Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you_

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind_

_In this darkness that you know you cannot fight_

_The darkness of the music of the night_

_Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world_

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before_

_Let your soul take you where you long to be_

_Only then can you belong to me_

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication_

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation_

_Let the dream begin_

_Let your darker side give in_

_To the power of the music that I write_

_The power of the music of the night_

_You alone can make my song take flight_

_Help me make the music of the night…_

I held the last note for a while, drifting back to the memories of Christine in my Opera House lair. She was intoxicated by my very presence at that time. Why did that stupid fop have to ruin my plans with her?

"Erik…" Abigail's voice said behind me. I whirled around, surprised. Her angelic face was in pure awe. "That was…so beautiful. Did you write that, Erik?" She was dressed in a lacy, white gown today, looking more like an angel than ever before. Her fiery hair cascaded in natural waves down to the middle of her back. Of course, her emerald eyes were as piercing as the day I'd met her.

I stood and made room for her on the piano stool. "Yes…I did. Long ago. Now," I said, patting the seat beside me, "sit. We must determine your range."

Abigail nodded and shyly sat beside me, our shoulders brushing against each other lightly. Once she opened her mouth, I was under her spell. Her voice was pure, so incredible. How could I have imagined something bad coming from such a superb creature as her?

I found my voice when she finished her scales. "So," I replied weakly, "you are a soprano." My voice was ragged from pure emotion.

Abigail blushed and her eyes drifted to the lyrics and music I had written the night before. She picked up the first manuscript and immediately put it on the piano. "I know this one. Will you play it for me?"

It was "Think of Me", the song that Christine had sung so beautifully. I started the intro of the song and watched Abigail as she started to sing.

_Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye_

_Remember me, once in a while_

_Please promise me you'll try_

_When you find that once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_Spare a thought for me_

_We never said our love was evergreen_

_Or as unchanging as the sea_

_But if you can still remember_

_Stop and think of me_

_Think of all the things we've shared and seen_

_Don't think about the way things might have been_

_Think of me, think of me waking _

_Silent and resigned_

_Imagine me trying to hard_

_To put you from my mind_

_Recall those days, look back on all those times_

_Think of the things we'll never do_

_There will never be a day when I won't think of you_

_Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade_

_They have their seasons so do we_

_But please promise me that sometimes _

_You will think of me_

She ended perfectly, sounding , in my opinion, better than Christine.

"Abigail…" I trailed off, bringing my bare hand up to her pale cheek. I gently stroked it, closing my eyes. My head was screaming "Don't do it!", but my heart was saying the exact opposite.

I opened them once again, and her breathtaking face was just inches from mine. I brought my lips to hers slowly, my breathing shallow. It was the second kiss I'd had in my whole life, and it was without question the best of the two.

Suddenly, Abigail pulled away. "We shouldn't be doing this."

_

* * *

_

Ooh, why shouldn't Abigail kiss Erik? Hmm, you'll have to wait for the next chapter! Read and review, people, you know the drill.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to all who have been reading this story! You have made me feel so confident in my writing and I appreciate it! Once again, I own nothing but my own characters!_

* * *

Chapter Four

My heart stopped at Abigail's words. _Not again, _I thought. _I can't handle another heartbreak._

"Why? Why can't we, Abigail?" I asked, trying not to sound harsh or cruel.

She frowned and looked down at her lap. "First, I hardly know you. Second, if you are going to tutor me, a relationship would surely cause problems. Third, I hate keeping these lessons from my brother, so I could not stand having another secret." She paused, as if she had something more to say.

"Just say it: the fourth reason that you don't want a relationship is because you don't know what's behind the mask," I interjected, not bothering to keep my voice kind. I stood and went to the farthest corner of the room, my back turned to her.

I heard Abigail stand and her footsteps echoed in the silence. "Is that what you think, Erik? That I would be so unfeeling as to judge you?" She stopped behind me. "Well, you are wrong."

I turned to face her, taking her hands in mine. "Your first issue is fairly simple to fix: we take the time to get to know each other. The second is easy also: your voice needs no training; it is perfect as is. And the third, well, I cannot help that. You telling your brother is your decision entirely." I looked into her enchanting emerald eyes. I was going to tell her everything, yes, everything.

I motioned for her to sit in the chair at my desk, and she did. Then, I pulled my chair so that we were facing each other. "Would you like to start, or shall I?" I questioned.

Abigail took a deep breath. "I will start." She looked at me squarely. "I was born November 14, 1852 to Robert and Rebecca Crenshaw. I've always enjoyed singing; I've been told that I started singing when I could talk. My elder brother, Aubry, is a truly amazing person. He protects me, provides for me, takes care of me."

"And your parents?"

Abigail looked down again at her clasped hands. "They…they perished in a fire two years ago. It was a simple trip to the market, but some madman ruined all our happiness in just one second." Her voice turned angry. "That…that murderer burnt down the market, and my parents were the only ones that did not escape." She finally glanced up at me, her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, ma chére, I'm so sorry." I couldn't bring myself to take her in my arms, to comfort her. It just…didn't feel right. So, I just held out my hand and she took it, grasping it firmly.

With her remaining hand, she wiped her tears stubbornly. "Thank you, Erik." She continued. "Anyways, now Aubry takes care of me."

I sighed. "I suppose you want to hear my story, now." I inhaled deeply, and exhaled. How could I explain to her that I was a murderer? That I killed three people? "My birth date is February 5, 1842. My parents were Edward and Anne Crawford. I was born in Paris, France…with a defect. My mother despised me, and the first item of clothing she bought for me was a mask. My father tried to make up for my mother's loathing, but when I was eight years of age, he died of the fever. I was devastated. I had no other brothers or sisters, no one but my cruel mother to take care of me. So, the next night, after my father's funeral, I ran away. Ran, for what seemed forever, until I found a traveling fair on its way to Scotland. I slipped inside and begged to be taken along, not knowing the horrors I would face there. I stayed for just two years, known as the "Devil's Child". One night, when we were back in Paris, I couldn't bear it any longer. I strangled the man that beat me, used me for money." I looked up, expecting Abigail to look shocked, but she just nodded for me to go on.

"A girl just a few years older than me, Antoinette Giry, saved me from the authorities and hid me under the Opera Populaire. I lived there until just last year." Should I tell her that I was the cause of the infamous fire? Yes, I had to, to earn her trust. "I was very possessive over the Opera house, and, when I turned twenty, I became the "Phantom of the Opera". I sent the managers notes demanding that they leave box five empty for my use, and that they pay me twenty thousand francs every month. I tutored Christine Daae when she came to the Opera Populaire at age seven, and did so until she was seventeen. I fell in love with her, but it didn't go as I'd planned it would. A childhood sweetheart of hers intervened, the Vicomte de Chagny, and I couldn't condone that. Events unfolded, and eventually, I killed two other people in my plans to win Christine. I was the one who caused the destruction of the Opera Populaire, but that drove Christine even farther away. I was about to kill the vicomte, offering Christine a choice to love me, save him, or love him, kill him. She kissed me then and my heart was overcome with such joy, I let them go together. An angry mob was looking for me, so I took my savings and came here."

Abigail's face was a mask of calm. She had to be faking it; I just told her that I took three lives and committed arson. We sat there, in silence, until I spoke again.

"I have no excuse for my actions besides pure insanity. I'm sure you'll want to call the police now and tell them you have the Phantom of the Opera," I sighed, holding my hands out, readying myself for chains.

Then, something unexpected happened. Abigail, that beautiful being, was suddenly in front of me, kneeling down. I got out of the chair and knelt also, leveling my face with hers. "Never." She took my face in her soft hands and kissed me, making my healing heart skip a beat. She wasn't scared of me, or angry at me. Her lips were warm and gentle, perfect in every way. I let my hands drop to her lower back, pulling her against my chest.

When we broke apart, Abigail and I sat at the piano again. "So, there is nothing else you can teach me?" she asked, her hand firmly planted in mine.

"Oh, I can teach you more songs. Duets, perhaps." I smiled slyly, looking down at her for approval.

She smiled, also, and looked at the clock above my bed, which read ten-thirty AM . "I must go. Aubry will be home soon." She stood and bent down to kiss my bare cheek. "Can I come back tonight at say, seven?"

I nodded. "Of course you can." I still held her hand.

Abigail laughed her musical laugh. "Goodbye, Erik."

"Goodbye, Abigail." I let go of her hand reluctantly and she walked up the stairs.

* * *

I busied myself with eating a light lunch, rehearsing "Point of No Return", the song that I was going to teach Abigail, and sitting aimlessly at my desk, my thoughts drifting to Abigail and her sweet disposition, yet strong spirit. Oh, she was breathtaking, and, she actually liked me for me. No forcing, no hypnotizing her with my voice, the attraction was real.

Thankfully, seven o' clock PM approached and Abigail walked down the staircase once more. This time, her gown was pitch black with a white collar and hem. Her hair was pulled into a tight braid that hung over her shoulder.

I smiled and walked over to her, taking her hand. I held her at arm's length. "May I ask what the inspiration is for those colors, mademoiselle?"

Abigail blushed and looked down at her dress. "You always wear a dark black or brown shade with your white mask. I thought that the colors would please you."

"You need not go to any special length to please me, Abigail. I think you are beautiful in any shade," I replied, stroking her cheek with my gloved hand. "Come, there is a song that I desire you to learn."

We sat on the piano stool, and I began to play "Point of No Return", the last duet that Christine and I sang together. I went over the melody with Abigail, getting her familiar with her part. Then, when she was ready, I started to play and sang my piece:

_You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge_

_In pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent, silent_

_I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge_

_In your mind you've already succumbed to me_

_Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me_

_Now you are here with me, no second thoughts_

_You've decided, decided_

_Past the point of no return, no backward glances_

_Our games of make believe are at an end_

_Past all thought of "if" or "when"_

_No use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend_

_What raging fire shall flood the soul?_

_What rich desire unlocks its door?_

_What sweet seduction lies before us?_

_Past the point of no return, the final threshold_

_What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn_

_Beyond the point of no return…_

I looked over at Abigail, nodding for her to begin. She took a deep breath, and sang Aminta's part:

_You have brought me to that moment when words run dry_

_To that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence_

_I have come here hardly knowing the reason why_

_In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining_

_Defenseless and silent_

_Now I am here with you, no second thoughts_

_I've decided, decided_

_Past the point of no return, no going back now_

_Our passion play has now at last begun_

_Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question:_

_How long should we two wait before we're one?_

_When will the blood begin to race?_

_The sleeping bud burst into bloom?_

_When will the flames at last consume us?_

Then, our voices combined in the last verse:

_Past the point of no return_

_The final threshold_

_The bridge is crossed_

_So stand and watch it burn_

_We've passed the point of no return_

Over the next two months, Abigail and I got to know each other even better. I taught her lots of songs and we became inseparable. Every free moment that she had, we spent together. And the odd thing was, Aubry never suspected a thing…well yet.

Anyways I did realized that I loved Abigail very, very much. But how could I tell her the right way?

* * *

I guess it isn't right for me to demand reviews. How about this: review if you want to! Thank you so much for continuing to support "Another Chance for the Phantom". Ciao!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Do not own Erik or any other characters made up by Gaston Leroux or Andrew Lloyd Webber; I only own the characters I created.

* * *

Chapter 5

For the following day, while I was alone, I tried writing Abigail a song. After countless re-writes and crumpled paper, I gave up. Then, I tried writing her a poem. That didn't work, either.

I would have to tell her just by words. Suddenly, I felt odd. My forehead started to sweat, along with the palms of my hands. And, I felt my heart racing, while my stomach churned. I'd never experienced nerves before. It wasn't a very good feeling.

_What if I stutter?_

_What is I say the wrong thing?_

I couldn't worry any further, for I heard footsteps echoing down the stairs; the angel was coming.

I hurried to straighten my wig and mask, then sat at my desk, trying to look natural. I didn't even look up when she stepped off of the last step.

"Erik?"

I looked up then, and my eyes widened. She was radiant in a very flattering gown, with a hoop, I might add, that matched the color of her eyes. The sleeves fell off of her shoulders, baring them fully, and the neckline was lower than that of her everyday dresses. Last, her hair was let down in beautiful waves of red, complimenting her light skin wonderfully.

I stood and took her hand, kissing it. "You look incredible, chére. But why the extravagance?" I was curious.

Abigail reddened. "Just something that I wanted to try out. Do you like it?"

She twirled once, all the while holding my hand. I replied, "Yes, it suits you, Abigail." Then, an idea popped into my mind. "Would you like to go for a walk in the park? It's very fine out."

Abigail laughed. "Well, that was very sudden." She paused. "But, I would like that very much."

About ten minutes later, we were strolling in one of the local parks, Abigail's arm through mine, the breeze blowing against our faces. The birds were chirping happily, and the sun was lowering. Beside me, Abigail shivered slightly, almost indistinctly.

I took off my black cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders, then kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Thank you, Erik." She leaned on my arm, her head in the crook of my shoulder. "I love you," she whispered softly.

"I love you, too."

Abigail stopped. "You do?"

I chuckled. "Yes. You don't know how many times I've tried to write a song or poem. It seems that you are very hard to describe." We started to walk again.

"Oh really? And this is coming from 'le fantome' himself?" She laughed. "You know, you're pretty indescribable yourself, Erik."

I laughed. For the next fifteen minutes, we ambled on in silence, staying to the path. It started to get dark at about eight, so we headed back towards the mansion.

Abigail suddenly halted. "Erik…" she trailed off, apparently trying to find the right words.

"What is it, my love?"

She sighed. "Can you…no…can I see what's behind your mask?"

This was my biggest fear. Would she scream and run? Forget our love and just leave me? A part of me said "No, she won't" but the other, more doubtful half said, "Don't do it!".

Abigail shook her head. "Just forget I asked. It wasn't my place. I'm sorry."

"No." I looked around, to make sure no one could see us. "You have the right to know and see." I took her hand and brought it up to my face, caressing the normal half. She hesitated, her hand lingering on the mask. But, after an encouraging nod from me, she peeled the mask off slowly.

Her reaction was very interesting. First, her eyes widened, and then went normal again. Then, she smiled and pressed her lips against mine, lovingly, warmly, placing her arms around my neck. My hands drifted to the sides of her delicate face; I was overcome with love, joy, and everything else good in the world. I was truly happy for the first time in my life.

I pulled away, wanting to stare into her never-ending eyes. "I love you. So much."

Abigail smiled. "I love you, too Erik."

I put my mask back in place and walked Abigail to the front door of Crenshaw mansion. "Erik, I want you to meet my brother."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She nodded, obviously still trying to convince herself it was a good idea. "Yes. He's been asking lately why I've been so happy; I think he has a right to know." She straightened my coat and black neck cloth.

After first coming to London, I took the liberty of purchasing a new wardrobe, all of the pieces similar to the ones I wore at the Opera Populaire.

I'd dressed "to the nines" that morning-something in the back of mind told me to-in a starched, white dress shirt with a high collar, brown vest, black dress breeches, carefully polished, black dress shoes, a black, fitted coat, and, of course, the black neck cloth.

I smile. "Of course, chére. But how will we tell him about the fact that I'm living underneath your home?"

Abigail took my hands in her warm, soft ones. "I'll leave that up to you, Erik. It is your business." She stood on her tip-toes to kiss my lips softly.

Then, putting her arm through mine, she rang the doorbell. Seconds later, a young, thin girl with wiry, blonde hair and timid blue eyes opened it. "Good evening, Miss." She looked up at me inquiringly, curiously.

"Hello, Hannah." Abigail motioned to me. "This is Mr. Crawford, my guest for tonight."

Hannah nodded and curtsied. "Good evening, sir." She took my cloak from Abigail's shoulders and hung it near the door. "Mr. Crenshaw is in the parlor." Hannah curtsied once more and exited.

Abigail squeezed my arm reassuringly. "Are you ready?"

I chuckled. "I suppose."

We walked to the parlor, still arm in arm. A servant opened the elaborate, wooden doors for us to reveal a young man of about 25 sitting down in a black, high backed chair, reading the paper. His hair was a light blonde color, curling under his ears. When he looked up, his eyes were the same shade as his sister's, and filled with relief.

"Abigail!" He stood and put his arms around Abigail, kissing the top of her head. "Who is your friend?" He turned to face me.

Abigail took a deep breath. "Aubry, this is Mr. Erik Crawford, Erik, my incredible older brother, Aubry."

I smiled, and taking off my gloves, shook her brother's hand, gripping it firmly. "Mr. Crenshaw, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

Aubry laughed. "Likewise, sir. We don't stand on ceremony here; let's just use our Christian names." He let go of my hand and gestured to the couch. "Would you care to sit down?"

Abigail and I sat on the burgundy loveseat, putting some space between us, while Aubry sat in his chair, facing us.

"Aubry, Erik and I…we have been courting these past two months." The words poured from her mouth like her life depended on it.

I looked up from my shoes to see Aubry's reaction. His fair brow furrowed and he frowned slightly. "So that is the reason you've been so merry lately." His emerald eyes looked hurt. "Why did you not tell me sooner?"

Abigail started to speak, but I interrupted. "We were waiting for the appropriate time, sir. Do not blame Abigail; if there is anyone to blame it is me." I looked sideways at Abigail, who had a wide-eyed expression on her face.

Aubry's mouth formed one grim line. "Well, it is better that you tell me now than never." He glanced at me, then the door. "Mr. Crawford, may I speak to you in private, sir?" Aubry stood and walked outside of the room.

I did the same, squeezing Abigail's hand quickly, then walked out also, standing to face Aubry.

"Mr. Crawford, how old are you?" he questioned, his eyes burning into mine.

"Thirty-one, sir." I met his gaze defiantly.

Aubry put his hands behind his back and paced up and down the hall. "Do you love my sister, sir? Truly?"

"Yes, Mr. Crenshaw, I do. Very much."

He searched my face, which was set in a very serious expression. His face softened. "How can I ever repay you?"

I was taken aback. What did he mean? "Pardon me sir?"

Aubry grasped my hand firmly again. "For making Abigail happy again. Ever since our parents died, she has been depressed, almost lifeless. You lit the fire in her, Erik, and I thank you again and again."

I was completely surprised. Where did this come from? "Sir, I…I have a confession. For a year and two months, I've been trespassing on your hospitality."

Aubry looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I've been living underneath your home, sir. But, at the end of every month, I leave £200 on your doorstep, my payment of rent."

Aubry patted me on the back. "I've wondered where that came from. Well, sir, it seems I have no other choice…than to ask you to move into the mansion."

This was too much to ingest. "But…but you hardly know me, Mr. Crenshaw. Don't you think this is a bit hasty?" I couldn't believe the words coming from my mouth.

"What, is there some reason why you should not be in my house?" Aubry laughed.

I shook my head. "No, no, I'm just a little…surprised, that's all." I smiled. "It would be my honor to accept your offer."

* * *

That very night, I was moved into a guest room permanently, to Abigail's delight. The Broadwood Grand was also put in my room, along with many candles. Things had turned out for the best, for right now, at least. But, little did I know: I was in for the most dramatic time of my life.

* * *

Well, that was great, huh? Finally, Erik and Abigail can be together without secrets. But what sort of drama will unfold in the next chapters? I would be delighted if you, as my readers, will give me your opinion. Leave me a review or send me a message with a "dramatic" suggestion. Who knows, maybe yours will be the key to the climax. Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own Erik, Opera Populaire or any other of the genius that was made up by Gaston Leroux or Andrew Lloyd Webber.

* * *

Chapter 6

**Four months later….**

_Abigail and I were dancing in a room full of mirrors, spinning around to music that sounded far away. Candles glowed on torches mounted to the walls. We were alone and silent, the only communication happening between our eyes. Suddenly, the room went completely black, engulfing us in darkness. I held Abigail close, only to have her ripped from my arms by unseen hands. I heard her screams, drowning out the on-going music. _

"_Abigail!" I cried, feeling around in the blackness. I took out the sword at my side, spinning around, trying to threaten whomever was holding my love. "I swear, if you do not show yourself, I will hunt you down!"_

_The room went light again, the candles re-lighting themselves. There, in the corner, was Abigail, a man younger than myself holding a dagger to her throat. "Monsieur leFantôme, it is wonderful to finally see you. And without your mask, too." His accent was French._

_I subconsciously raised my hand to the right side of my face just to find it as he said: bare. "Let her go. Apparently, your business is with me."_

_His dark eyes narrowed and his perfect mouth formed a sneer. "Not so fast, Monsieur. Under one condition." He held up one finger._

_Abigail struggled against his arms. "Don't do it, Erik! Please." Her eyes pleaded with me. _

_The man shook her violently. "Do not speak!" he shouted. I stepped forward, getting my sword ready, but that only made it worse. He cut Abigail's throat swiftly, spilling crimson blood. _

_She fell to the floor, going pale. I took her in my arms, willing her to live. "Erik…I…love…you." Then, she went limp, the life leaving her body._

I sat up, tears flowing freely from my eyes. _It was only a dream; Too real. _I opened the curtains, letting the sun shine in brightly, dispelling the darkness of the room and of my dream. I had to see Abigail.

I got dressed hurriedly, descending the staircase to the dining room. There, looking as lovely as ever, was the love of my life, sitting beside Aubry at the breakfast table. I smiled, relieved, as I took my place at her other side. Placing anapkin in my lap, I began eating. Abigail reached for my hand underneath the table and glanced at me from the corner of her eye.

"How are you this morning, Erik?" Abigail asked, stroking my hand lightly.

I chuckled. "Better now that I am with you."

Aubry cleared his throat and looked at his sister. "Don't you have something to ask Erik, Abigail?"

"Oh! I almost forgot. We have all been invited to the Last Minute Masque tonight." She smiled. "Would you like to accompany Aubry and I?"

The last time I attended a Masquerade was at the Opera Populaire almost two years back. I put that from my mind and focused on the present. "But I have no outfit appropriate for a Masque." It was true; I only had the mask part.

"Then it looks like we will have to take a "shopping trip" as Abigail calls it; I know an excellent costumer in town." Aubry continued to eat his breakfast.

"Well then, I would love to accompany you to the Masque." I turned back to Abigail. "But you must grant me the first dance, my dear."

Abigail kissed my hand. "You can have them all except for one, which I will share with my beloved brother." She chuckled lightly and sipped at her beverage.

We all laughed and finished our meals around ten, then set out for costume shopping. I wanted something that stood out, (In a good way) but matched up with Abigail's color palette.

After trying on countless outfits, I finally found one that coordinated with Abigail's light green ball gown. A white dress shirt, cream-colored vest, and a dark green coat (with tails) along with a pair of trousers in the same shade.

Aubry's style matched mine, but was in a pale yellow tone. We all settled on cream masks, the gentlemen's covering one eye and Abigail's covering both.

I was wary again when it turned night. I was getting ready when my dream of the previous night came back to me. I had this weird feeling that something wrongwas going to happen; And it would happen to Abigail.

All was ready at a quarter to six, so we put on our heavy coats and cloaks and rode the carriage to the huge ballroom that the Masque was being held at. It was ornately decorated with sculptures and a huge, beautiful chandelier. So many memories flooded back: the crash, the fire. What if that happened tonight? _Don't be foolish, Erik. Nothing is going to happen, _I told myself.

Two butlers had the task of taking our coats, then hung them beside the door. Everyone stared at us as we walked in, Abigail on Aubry's arm. Of course, they were looking at me. I was the strange one here. Let the games begin.

"Erik?" Abigail slipped her arm through mine. "Are you well?"

I snapped out of my reverie. "Yes, chére." The small orchestra started to play. "Would you like to dance?" I held out my hand. She nodded, placed one hand in mine and the other on my shoulder. I positioned my free hand not on her waist, but a few inches above that, my elbow touching hers. I prided myself on being a fairly good dancer, and Abigail kept up smoothly. Our eyes never left each other, even when I spun her outward; She looked amazing. Her hair was done much the same as when I saw her the second time, when she asked me to be her music teacher; It was put into a high bun, one red curl dangling loose.

"You are a magnificent dancer, my love," Abigail said as I twirled her around, then brought her close again.

"I suppose. I have not the grace that you do, though." I didn't really know what I looked like when I danced. Antoinette taught me numerous times at the Opera House. She called my dancing "divine" and said that I moved so "naturally".

Abigail chuckled. "No, you have more grace than I do."

We continued to dance until the music stopped, and after that, we mingled with the other guests. I was introduced to so many people: friends, acquaintances, and even a prime minister. They all seemed friendly enough, except for one. His name was Charles Cromwell, a close friend of Aubry's. His blue eyes were icy, cold and his demeanor seemed…angry altogether. There was something off-balance about him, something untrustworthy, but maybe it was just me. Anyway, when I met him, Charles only acknowledged me with a brief nod, then walked away. Very odd indeed.

Aubry danced with Abigail twice that night; We were the only two to dance with her because she refused anyone else. Not that I would have let her dance with someone other than us, me being protective and all.

For once in my life, I actually had "fun" being near people. There was this warm feeling of…acceptance inside my heart. And I hoped that it would stay that way.

* * *

We arrived at home around midnight. Aubry went straight to bed, but Abigail and I changed into our night clothes and went to the library to talk.

"So how was your night, dear Angel of Music?" Abigail chuckled. She teased me about the whole "Christine" thing sometimes.

I squeezed her hand. "It was perfect."

She laid her head on my shoulder and sighed happily, looking up at me. "It was, wasn't it?"

I put my finger under her chin, lifting her face up to mine; Her lips were mere inches from my own, then. The feeling of her being so close set my heart racing with excitement. My emotions took me over at that moment. All I could think about was wanting her.

"Abigail…" I breathed, and, taking her face in my hands, brought her lips to mine. She pulled away, breathing heavily, then kissed me again, more passionately this time. My hands traveled down her neck to the buttons on her nightgown, fumbling to undo them. When I got to the third button, Abigail pushed me away, her face mixed with numerous emotions: confusion, disappointment, fear, anger.

"Erik…How could you? You know that I cannot give myself to you before marriage." She stood and re-fastened her nightgown. I saw her chest heaving and heard her quiet sobs. "I thought you were different, I really did. But apparently, I was wrong."

Before I could protest, Abigail stormed off. I followed her to her room. "Abigail, love, wait! I can explain!"

She stopped, looking up at me with tear-filled eyes. "So can I: All you desire is my body. You don't care a thing about my heart." She slammed the door in my face, not even letting me reply.

_Stupid, _I thought, _How could I have been so stupid as to go that far? _I walked back to my room and flung myself onto the bed hopelessly. I couldn't lose her like this; She was part of me now, and I couldn't go on living without her.

All night I tossed and turned, thinking of ways to explain my feelings in the morning, explain my stupid emotions taking control of me. She would understand, right?

* * *

"Erik!" Aubry's panicked voice woke me from my restless sleep.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "What is the matter, Aubry?"

A single tear slid down his cheek. "Abigail is gone."

* * *

_Wow. Didn't expect that one, did you? What will happen next? You'll just have to wait for the next chapter. If you liked it, drop by, give me a review. If you didn't, tell me how I can improve, because without you loyal readers, my story would not have gotten this far. Thanks! - rocker-chic_


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Do not own anything from Gaston Leroux's novel, or Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical.

* * *

Chapter 7

My heart momentarily stopped beating. "What?"

"She ran away. I do not know why, but she did." Aubry put his head into his hands. "Somehow I feel that this is my fault."

"Actually, I know it is mine. Last night…I tried to push her into something that she did not want to do and I feel so horrible about it." My eyes filled with tears. I could very well never see her again. She could be on a ship to the United States by now and we wouldn't know it.

"Well, the only thing we can do is hope and go look for her. There's a good chance she's still in London." Aubry stood and threw me my clothes, which were laying out on my nightstand. "Get dressed. We shall leave at once."

I put on my garments quickly, then my mask. My outfit was a simple white shirt, black trousers, and my long black coat. I wore black boots, great for a lot of walking.

Aubry and I first went to the police to report a missing person and then we started searching. We went everywhere; Every store, every inn, we even searched below Crenshaw mansion in the basement, but all that was left there was my old makeshift bed. It was utterly hopeless.

As Aubry and I looked around the park, I slumped onto one of the benches and started to sob. I'd lost her forever, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Aubry sat down beside me. "Erik, we will find her, I promise. When we aren't searching, the police will be. I don't think she will be gone long."

I looked up at him, feeling like a young child being comforted by an adult, which was odd because I was older than Aubry by about six years. "You cannot know that, Aubry. Her stubbornness will only fuel her, keep her away."

Aubry actually laughed. "Perhaps I should have told you this before, Erik, but this isn't the first time Abigail has run away from home."

"Please explain," I said, confused.

Aubry took a deep breath and then launched into his story. "When Abigail was about sixteen, she fell for a young lad named William Price. She was smitten with him; She thought of nothing else but him. Well, a few months later, she found William with another girl. It broke her heart into pieces. So, Abigail ran away. My parents and I searched everywhere for her, and, the next night, guess who showed up at the door? My sister. Mother and Father were so overjoyed to see her that they weren't upset or angry with her at all. We welcomed her back home with open arms."

"So, she was gone a mere day?"

Aubry nodded. "Yes. I feel it may be longer this time, since she is older. But I know that Abigail loves you and I too much to be away from us long."

I shook my head. "I hope that you are right."

* * *

Two days of pure torture passed; I could not sleep at all and we searched endlessly for hours at a time. Maybe Aubry was wrong, maybe Abigail would never come back.

Sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, I would play the piano softly and sing Abigail's favorite song of mine: "Music of the Night". The pain that I felt was excruciating; I felt as if part of me were missing.

On the third night, while Aubry and I were eating a light, quick dinner on the front veranda, we saw a figure approaching the house at a slow, but steady pace. We both stood, trying to get a better view. Seconds later, I could make out the pale skin and auburn hair of Abigail, her face wet with tears.

Aubry threw down his plate and ran to embrace his sister, kissing the top of her head many times.

My heart lifted, and so did the heavy weight from my shoulders. She was safe, and thankfully, she looked unharmed other than the bags from lack of sleep underneath her still piercing eyes.

But the question lingered in my mind: Would she forgive me for my stupid mistake?

"I'm so sorry," I overheard her sobbing.

"Shh, shh. Everything is going to be all right." Aubry comforted her, patting her hair tenderly.

"Aubry, is Erik still here? There is so much I have to say to him, I…" Abigail trailed off, crying even harder.

Aubry turned her so that she faced my direction, pointing at me. "He's right there, love."

The second our eyes met, I knew that I'd been forgiven. She ran into my arms, burying her face into my chest, still weeping. We stood there for what seemed hours, just holding each other.

"I'm so very sorry, Erik. For being so angry with you and then just…running off."

"No, chère, you had every right to be upset. I was overcome with my emotions and couldn't control them. I am sorry for that." I held her face in my hands gently. "Because I love you very much and I do care for your heart."

Abigail's eyes filled with tears once more. "I love you, too. More than words can truly express."

I brought her lips to mine, making up for lost time. Thankfully, I did not go too far this time.

Aubry cleared his throat, making us break apart. "Can we move this reunion inside? It's starting to rain."

Abigail and I laughed and walked inside, her head resting on my shoulder. "You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the night," I sang into her ear softly.

* * *

Later that night, when I lie in bed peacefully, I pondered my relationship with Abigail. We had been together for six months now, and I was ready to take our courtship to the next level.

But was it too soon? Marriage was a big step; and the last time I offered everything to someone, my efforts failed completely and I lost my whole life. Would that happen once more?

I didn't care. I loved Abigail and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. _If this doesn't work, _I thought, _I will almost definitely die of heartbreak._

**The Following Morning…**

While everyone was still in bed, I was up early. I had to go and purchase Abigail's ring, or rather, the ring I was going to propose to her with. I dressed casually, yet sophisticated. Before I left, I asked the head butler, Denny, to relay the message that I had to take care of some business in town and would be back within a few hours.

The first and only store I went to was Swarovski on Main Street. "May I help you, sir?" an elderly gentleman asked when I walked in.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm looking for an engagement ring. The perfect one."

His gray eyebrows rose and he nodded also in understanding. "I see. Well, you have come to the right place." He motioned to a case in the middle of the small store. "Come, let me show you some of our newest additions."

I came to the rather large case and looked at more than a dozen beautiful diamond rings.

"What did you have in mind?" the man questioned, looking up at me.

I thought back to all the times I'd seen Abigail wear jewelry. Her pieces were always very simple, but elegant at the same time. "Something elegant and also simple."

The shopkeeper pointed to the first ring in the case. It was a beautifully cut, single diamond set between dozens of smaller, circular cut diamonds. "Is this what you are looking for?"

I could certainly imagine that ring sitting on Abigail's left hand perfectly. My heart beat faster with excitement, anticipation. "Yes, that is it."

So, I had my ring, now all I needed was a fiancée.

* * *

After buying the ring (which he sold to me at a very good price), I hurried back home, ecstatic, but nervous about what I was going to do. Slipping the ring box in my hidden cloak pocket, I knocked on the door. I was let in by Denny, whom I thanked for giving Aubry and Abigail my message.

"Erik!" Abigail jumped into me, nearly knocking me over, but, I was quick and caught her easily. "Where have you been?"

I laughed and hugged her to my chest. "Let's take a walk, my love." I offered my hand to her, which she took eagerly.

We walked through Crenshaw Mansion, taking a tour of the many rooms, libraries, and last, the famous gallery.

"Do you remember when we first met, Abigail?" I asked, looking down at her.

Her green eyes sparkled. "How could I forget? You saved my life."

I chuckled. "Were you frightened? Be honest," I said, continuing my leisurely pace.

Abigail sighed. "Of course I was frightened. I didn't know where I was or what had happened. But when I saw you for the very first time, my heart skipped a beat. I couldn't remember ever seeing someone so handsome." She giggled. "Or someone who wore as much black as you do."

"Me? Handsome?" I asked incredulously. She must've said that just to make me feel good about myself.

Abigail stopped. "Yes. You are very handsome." She stroked my mask. "Even what's behind your mask. I actually love seeing you without it and your wig, also." Her hand lingered on the mask. "May I?"

I nodded. "And the wig, if you'd like."

Abigail took the mask off gently, tenderly setting it down on one of the many tables in the gallery. Then, she removed my black wig, also placing it with the white mask. "There…there is the man that I am in love with."

I smiled, stroking her cheek. This was the perfect moment. I knelt down and pulled the black box from my hidden pocket, opening it. Abigail's eyes widened.

"Abigail Crenshaw, you are the love of my life, and I want to spend every day with you from now on. Will you marry me?"

Abigail smiled, a single tear escaping her eye. "Yes."

I slid the token of my love onto her left ring finger and kissed her, twirling her around happily. She kissed me again and again on the right side of my face, making my skin tingle. She was mine. Forever.

* * *

Well, that's it folks. How did everyone like it? I hope that I stayed true to Erik and gave him what he deserved: Happiness. Leave me a review or a message to tell me what you thought of the whole story or how I can improve. Thank you so much! - rocker-chic


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